


With The Radio Blasting, Goes Crusing

by nativemossy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Beaches, Day At The Beach, Fluff, Gen, Iron Dad, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, Kinda, M/M, Pre-Slash, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nativemossy/pseuds/nativemossy
Summary: Tony knew it was a small incident in the grand scheme of things, but he felt his blood boil on the behalf of his son anyhow. How dare some prick come and destroy a kid’s castle, especially his kid’s castle.





	With The Radio Blasting, Goes Crusing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siwussy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siwussy/gifts).



> Prompt was taken from awful-aus on tumblr (Submitted AU #300, "I'm at the beach and I saw some asshole kick over your child's sandcastle and now I have to give them a piece of my mind because I'm a nice person plus you're really cute")
> 
> gifted to Simon cause he's been putting up with me forever and he was really digging this prompt. I wanted to imply that Tony and May coparent Peter, but there was no good way to do that without making this fic unnecessarily long. Just know it was written with that intent. 
> 
> Title from Fun Fun Fun by The Beach Boys

“Dad, Dad!! Look!” 

Tony turned around, looking down at his son, beaming at the huge grin Peter was sporting. Peter’s hands were outstretched, and in the center of his palms was a pale sand crab, looking as shocked and vaguely irritated as a crab could. His smile briefly lost its shine, before returning to a close approximation of what it was. “Nice work Peter Rabbit, but why don’t you put the, ah, nice crab down? I’m sure it has other, uh, crabby things to be doing today.”

Peter frowned slightly, but put the crab down between them. It skittered off, disappearing into a shady dune nearby. “Dad! I was gonna put him in my sand castle!” He whined slightly, kicking one of his feet through the sand. Tony huffed out a little laugh, running a hand through Peter’s unruly curls fondly.

Peter grumbled good-naturedly for a few seconds, then grabbed Tony around the waist, squeezing him into the tightest hug his seven year old arms could manage. Tony smiled down at his son, then gently stepped back, kneeling down to meet Peter’s eyes.

“Alright bud, since your kingdom just lost its king, how about you show me the castle before the squatters settle in?” Peter grinned up at his father, tugging the older man by the hand closer to the shore. Tony stumbled for the first couple of steps, his legs working to catch up with the boundless enthusiasm of a preschooler.

A few steps into their journey, Peter gasped, halting in his tracks and leaving Tony to nearly crash right into him. Tony grabbed his son by the shoulders, attempting to prevent them from toppling into the sand. Peter squirmed out of his hands, pointing towards where his sandcastle was.

Or, rather, where the castle should have been.

In the time it had taken Peter to grab his father’s attention, the castle had somehow gotten destroyed, and if the footprints all around it counted for anything, the destruction was absolutely intentional.

Tony knew it was a small incident in the grand scheme of things, but he felt his blood boil on the behalf of his son anyhow. How dare some prick come and destroy a kid’s castle, especially  _ his _ kid’s castle.

Before Tony could get caught up in his anger, he felt the familiar hitch-and-sob that meant Peter was crying, but doing his best to hide it. Tony immediately zoned in on Peter, turning him around and cradling his head to his chest, rubbing gentle circles at the base of his skull as his sobs picked up tempo. “Hey, hey, it’s ok buddy.” He soothed, squinting doubtfully at the passerby, hoping in vain that one might pop out of the woodwork and claim responsibility for his son’s tears.

After a minute or so Tony gave up any vain hope that someone might have seen the error of their ways, and settled in to wait for Peter to stop crying.

Tony flinched when a shadow was cast over him, pausing in the comforting murmur he had begun in effort to soothe Peter. He looked up to see a stern blond man, holding a mostly-morose looking, mousy teen by the back of the shirt. Tony didn’t bother standing up, only quirked a brow at the two in front of him.

“I believe this young man has something to say to you,” the blond giant said, his deep baritone a pleasant surprise. When the teen was silent for a beat too long, he gave him a bit of a shake by the back of his neck, frowning deeply down at him. “Well, son?”

“S-sorry,” The poor dumbass muttered, looking down at his feet. “was just being stupid, didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Tony grumbled, standing up straight with a wince, keeping a steady hand on Peter’s shoulder as his son hugged his leg, “apologize to my son.”

The (incredibly buff) blond released the kid, letting him stagger for balance for a second before grabbing him by the shoulder to right him. He nodded to Peter, who now hid behind Tony’s leg, shyly peeking his head out and not-so-sneakily wiping his snotty nose on Tony’s board shorts. Lovely.

The kid leaned down, getting on Peter’s level. He cleared his throat, looking around briefly. “Hey kid, sorry about being an ass. I mean it, sorry.” He cleared his throat again, looking anxiously back at the behemoth of a man behind him. Tony looked to him as well, and the blonde simply stared back, placidly waiting for a response. Tony looked down at Peter, gently running his hand through his curls again. When Peter looked up Tony nodded at the teen, tilting his head slightly in question.

Peter ducked further behind Tony’s leg, gripping his shorts a bit tighter. “It’s ok.” He mumbled, hiding his face in the leg of Tony’s pants. Tony sighed, that was probably the most response he was gonna get for a while. 

Tony nodded at the blond (Christ, was he a bodybuilder? Abs like that couldn’t be legal), who shooed the teen out of the area. Tony crouched down again, fishing out a tissue from one of his pockets and wiping Peter’s face clean. He distantly heard some heated muttering, but paid no mind as he tended to his son, making little stupid jokes as an attempt to squeeze a laugh out of him.

He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Mr. Big Blonde and Handsome right behind him, considerably less threatening now that he was smiling ruefully and wringing his hands nervously. “Hey,” he said, pausing and seemingly making a conscious effort to still his hands. “I hope that wasn’t too forward, but he really shouldn’t have done that. I hope your son-” He paused, leaning his head forward meaningfully. It took Tony a second to realize that he was waiting for a name. He sighed, picking Peter up and settling him on his hip with a small huff of exertion.

“This is Peter,” He said, bouncing Peter slightly, earning himself a faint giggle from where Peter had buried his face against his shirt, “and I’m Tony. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand, and Buff Dude reached out to meet it, grasping his hand in a firm shake.

“Steve.” He replied, his  ~~ fucking huge ~~ large warm hand feeling like a comfort within Tony’s. The shake ended, and he took his hand back, smiling gently as he turned slightly towards Peter. He bent down a little, and offered his hand to the brunet, “Hey Peter, it’s nice to meet you bud, I’m sorry about your castle.”

Peter sniffled a little, picking his head up off of Tony’s shoulder. He looked at the proffered hand a bit like a foreign object, but then reached his tiny hand out to meet it, beginning a frankly adorable imitation of a handshake. Tony felt a warm feeling spread through his chest as Steve’s tiny smile turned into a dazzling grin, and Peter returned it, smiling happily as he shook their hands up and down far more than necessarily. “Thanks Mr. Steve,” He replied in his tiny voice, taking his hand and using the back of it to wipe at his nose. Tony frowned slightly at that, but kept his tissues to himself for the time being. “I wanted to show Daddy my castle, but now its all smashed.” Peter frowned, kicking his feet petulantly.

Steve looked down for a second, then questioningly at Tony. When Tony quirked an eyebrow in reply he huffed a small laugh, turning back to Peter. “If your dad says its ok, I’ll help you build your castle again.”

Peter perked up, jerking his head back and nearly hitting Tony in the jaw. Peter squirmed in Tony’s arms, demanding to be put down without words. “Dad! Please say he can help!” He pleaded, wriggling around to look Tony in the eye with his brown bambi eyes, effectively ending any argument Tony could have raised. Tony huffed out a sigh, setting his son down gently. Tony raised his hand, grabbing Peter’s attention for a brief second. “That’s alright, but stay where i can see you.” Peter cheered, knowing he had won. He snagged Steve by the wrist, dragging him to the pile of trampled sand, rambling shyly (but eagerly) about the plans for his castle as Steve listened patiently. 

Tony smiled warmly, following behind by a few paces. “Use your manners, Peter!” He called out from behind them, laughing when Peter replied with a quick affirmative and Steve turned his head, winking warmly at Tony in response. Tony felt his grin widen in response, rolling his eyes as Steve turned back to Peter with a grin, already bending down to start building the sand into walls once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This fic was crossposted on my Tumblr (@nativemossy), feel free to come and chat with me over there!


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